


Guards at our hearts

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Relationship, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: When they were younger their hearts, comparative to now, was largely unshielded.  They were furiously infatuated, blinded by the world and caught in all the traps and hooks of first love – jealousy, anger, deceit, revenge.  The years, and exposure to the nature of each other and the world, have made them more careful and their hearts more guarded.





	Guards at our hearts

She finds him in the rocky basement of the Manor – the walls dusty and shaken by the explosions above. She sees what must be his bed, nothing but a rolled up tarp against the wall in the corner. He has been staying here for weeks. 

His eyes snap to her as she enters, still angry, still raw “What do you want, Selina?” he bites out and she stops, lifting her palms. “Bruce. Calm down.” she tries but he takes two imposing steps forward, covering ground fast and she steps back “I’m not here to fight.” She concedes and he slows, still towering, and waits for her to talk.

When they were children they fought and as lovers they fought – for all their attempts they have never been allies and the history between them is crushing at times such as these. 

“I just came to see if you are alright.” She says plainly and the distance, which is possibly only a few feet between them, seems like an endless desert.

“I’m not alright.” Bruce says, first thinking about it, and then focusing his dark eyes back on hers. Bruce – honest to the bone. She is frightened for him, for his vulnerability, for his earnest heart, his large self-sacrificing ego. “It was my fault.” He says and she expected nothing less. Everything in the world is Bruce’s fault, problem or prize. She sighs and moves closer, and at her touch on his arm he lowers his gaze, calming. “Let’s talk about anything else.” She suggests quietly and he looks at her again, with a measure of distrust. “I can’t just wish this away, Selina…” And his voice is low, anger rising again. 

“I’m not saying that.” She placates, and puts a hand on his cheek, which he immediately takes in his own. 

The story of them is not a happy one and where it has not been shattered by petty disagreements it has been fractured by deeper betrayals. Yet Bruce’s loyalty to her, unwavering and always at the surface, no matter how brutal and vile their attacks on one another, is beyond question.

“We’re not twenty one anymore, Selina. We can’t run away from the consequences of our actions. At least, I can’t.” He says in the growing darkness and Selina fights an instinct to balk at the sting. She breathes him through his guilt quietly. “At least for one night you can let go of it, Bruce. Just one night.”

When they were younger they had so much time and no time at all. During the first year after the explosions started they bounded into different directions – their motivations at odds and their spirits on fire. The passing years have made their weary, more cautious with what they share. They are still not on the same side, they may never be, but there will always be a moment, be it once in a year or once in five years, that the world can confine and shrink to just the two of them.

“Don’t be so serious.” She teases him without a smile and he leans in close to her, smelling her hair as he pulls her up to him. “I wish you’d stop coming here, Selina.” He says into her neck – his arms strong around her. It hurts but she knows that she may be doing more damage than she is intending to rectify. “I wish I could.” She says, because it’s true.

She leans away from the hug and he lets go, but keeps his hands there, holding her near. “Tomorrow we can go back to war.” She says and he doesn’t say anything, his shadowed eyes on hers. 

When they were younger their hearts, comparative to now, was largely unshielded. They were furiously infatuated, blinded by the world and caught in all the traps and hooks of first love – jealousy, anger, deceit, revenge. The years, and exposure to the nature of each other and the world, have made them more careful and their hearts more guarded.

She leans up to him and his fingers dig deep, bruising her as she breathes into his neck. His smell, his warmth so familiar that it hurts – and his fingers grab at her hair, tangles in her curls and pull her closer to him still. “Please don’t come here again” He whispers, but kisses her still, roughly, and she moves her hands down between them – distracting him from promises. He knows her and, shaking his head against hers, grips her wrist tight – but her angle is perfect and she is already there – her palm against his hardness. “Or just stay, stay” He breathes as she moves her hand further down, out of his hold, stroking firmly. “So keep me here.” She challenges him, because anything else would be a promise and she breaks promises.

He bites into her mouth and the kiss is searing – heated with the years of want before, the arguments, the despairs, dishonesties, capricious hurts they have inflicted on each other. 

He grabs for her belt and she kisses him wildly as he unbuckles it, turns her around against him and pulls her hips tight to his own. With his other hand he pulls her head back, a fist in her hair, not hard but not soft either and she close her eyes at the feel of his breath against her neck. 

In the morning the dust from the floor has stained her back, her knees and Bruce is awake when wipes her hands against her skin – watching her with unreadable eyes. “Morning always comes” he says and his voice is even, but there is a hopelessness to it that hurts her heart. “Bruce, why don’t you leave? You can go. Gotham is not your responsibility.”   
She means it and she knows that her telling him to go is painful for him to hear. He looks away from her, eyes distant and moves his hand from the small of her back – the spot cold now where his warm fingers were trailing her skin.  
“You shouldn’t come back here again, Selina.” He says and she sighs, looking away. “It gets worse when you leave.” He says, voice low.

When they were younger they clawed and yanked at each other, shouted and with threats and curses attempted to possess the other yet not to be possessed by the other. 

“I love you, Bruce.” She says as she leans over him, avoiding his gaze, and kisses his cheek softly before she stands up. He grips her hand, steadying herself on the tarp next to his shoulder, tightly and she finally looks at him, at his pained brown eyes “I’ll see you soon.” And he looks away, his old anger rising again – shutting her out.


End file.
